


How to Care for Your Reptilian

by MsJonathanWalsh (PhantomWriterAnon)



Category: People of Earth (TV 2016)
Genre: Aliens, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It's Love Folks, Jonathan Deserves Love Too, M/M, Ozzie Is Kind Of A Low-Key Stalker And That's Okay, Post-Season/Series 01, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9536363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriterAnon/pseuds/MsJonathanWalsh
Summary: The document was titled 'How to Care for Your Reptilian'. In it, Ozzie had taken the time to document all of the little nuances about his lover - were they lovers now? - that were different from the typical human. In other words, it was essentially a how to guide for being a good boyfriend to an alien that had, at one point, been bent on taking over the human race but had now come to the conclusion that cuddles were much more rewarding.





	1. Feeling the Heat

From the start, Ozzie had known that his decision to publish the article would  _hurt_ Jonathan. He'd just managed to convince himself that his former boss knew of the potential repercussions of handing over that thumb drive, and was prepared to face the backlash and eventual fall-out with his head held high. 

He  _certainly_ hadn't expected to see  _this_. 

Jonathan, sitting on a bench in Beacon Central Park, nursing a cup of coffee in trembling fingers that were bluer than the man's irritatingly jovial eyes. 

He didn't want to see what he'd just witnessed, didn't want to know that there was anything else besides the persona he'd come to think of as the bane of his existence. Sometimes, much as it pained him to admit it, it was easier to  _not_ think of Jonathan as a person - as an actual sentient being capable of complex thought, of emotions, of  _desires_. It was easier to see him as a nuisance, something that he had to deal with on a daily basis despite various reservations. 

He'd gone into journalism so that he could expose the truth. It might not be the next Watergate, no... but the people deserved to know the kind of under-the-table deals that kept Glint above water. But Ozzie also wasn't cruel. Exposing the truth was all well and good, when you didn't have to see the consequences of your actions first-hand. Didn't have to  _watch_ your former boss use a freaking cup of coffee for warmth in the middle of an abandoned park while he slowly succumbed to frostbite. 

He didn't know when he'd started walking over, or when he'd slipped the bright red scarf from around his neck and gently wove it around Jonathan's... only to almost recieve a splash of lukewarm coffee to the crotch for his efforts. He jumped back, just barely missing the splash that landed uncerimoniously in the pristine white snow. "Well, I guess I really should've seen that coming..."

Jonathan, still startled and apparently ready to go on the attack, looked at Ozzie with wide eyes. "O-Ozzie? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He motioned to the older man's sweatpants and tank top, "You're not exactly dressed for a midnight stroll in subzero temperatures, Jonathan."

Jonathan, never one to allow himself to be backed into a corner, turned his attention to his now empty coffee cup. "Shit, my coffee's cold." He whined, "That was expensive, too."

"Look, I know that I'm going to seriously regret asking this, but... do you need a place to crash for the night? Because I don't really like the idea of you spending the night on a park bench. There's a lot of weirdos out there -," and holy crap why was this so  _embarrassing_? He was just asking a simple question, for crying out loud!

Jonathan, startled out of his little tantrum, offered the other man a wry smile. "I can almost guarantee that I'm  _a lot_ weirder than anything else you'll find in this park tonight, Oz. Listen, thanks for the offer, but I... I...  _achoo_!" The coffee cup flew out of his hand as he practically doubled over with the force of his sneeze.

Ozzie rolled his eyes, "Yeah, you're sick and you're coming with me."

Taking Jonathan by the arm, he pulled him up off of the bench and froze. In this new position, he was able to see a  _nasty_ scar that had formed on the left side of Jonathan's face. The skin was dark and raised, and had clearly been irritated from the exposure to the cold. He didn't realize he'd been outright staring until Jonathan cleared his throat awkwardly, looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights. And Ozzie found himself wondering, not for the first time,  _what the hell am I getting myself into_?

"I know I'm gorgeous and all," Jonathan forced a smile, "but didn't anyone tell you it was impolite to stare?"

The younger shook his head, "Yeah, well it isn't everyday your former boss looks like he tried to fry his own face up for dinner. What the hell happened to you, man?"

With his left arm still trapped in Ozzie's unrelenting grip, his right hand snuck up to pluck at the fraying scarf secured around his neck. "There was a... small explosion..."

"An  _explosion_?" When Jonathan nodded hesitantly, Ozzie had to refrain from whacking him upside the head. Hard. "Alright, new plan. I'm taking you to the hospital, because clearly this 'small' explosion rattled your already dangerously spacious brain."

But the reptilian wouldn't have any of it. "No! No hospitals!" Aside from the plainly obvious fact that his skin suit was falling apart at the seams, there was the fact that Jeff currently thought he was dead - and until he figured out a game plan, he'd kind of like to keep it that way. Letting a bunch of humans play with his decaying suit was like putting a big, fat bullseye on his back. 

"Jonathan, you're like thirty minutes away from losing your fingers to frostbite - you're not in any position to be complaining about the hospital." 

Much to Ozzie's confusion, Jonathan looked at his hands in wonder. Like it hadn't even occured to him that he'd begun to lose feeling in the digits, or the sharp pain that came with the blood literally  _freezing_ in his veins hadn't registered in his mind. Yeah, he definitely needed to have his head checked after this whole frostbite scare was over. Because that was definitely not normal...

Not to mention the fact that he was practically shaking underneath Ozzie's hand. Couldn't he tell how cold he really was? Exasperated, Ozzie tried to drag the man away again, only for Jonathan to remain firmly rooted in place. Damn, that man was heavier than he looked. And a lot more stubborn than Ozzie remembered. With a sigh, he let the older man's arm fall. Really, they didn't have time to stand here and argue, and Ozzie didn't have many more layers he could sacrifice before he became vulnerable to the bitter cold as well. 

And really, why did he even care? What had Jonathan Walsh ever done for him?

Except sacrifice everything he'd ever known to bolster Ozzie's career. 

"Fine, no hospital. But you are coming home with me." He said firmly, tired and cold and fucking irritable and so done with this conversation, it wasn't even funny. Slipping out of his red jacket, he pushed it at Jonathan's chest. "Now put that on before you freeze to death and c'mon."

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, before slipping the coat on and flashing his former employee a playful smirk, "Luring me in with the promise of a warm bed and an even warmer body? Kinky, Ozzie. Very kinky."

Ozzie raised an eyebrow, "I'll ask again - you sure you're not in love with me?"

"It doesn't sound like you'd be too terribly opposed to it, if I was."

"Very funny." He said, unlocking the car and sliding into the driver's seat. "And just for the record, you're sleeping on the couch."

* * *

As it turned out, Jonathan  _did not_ sleep on the couch. 

"Well, we're here." Ozzie said, unlocking the door and switching on the light. "Sorry it's not the extravagence you're used to, but... well, actually, I'm not all that sorry."

Even with the heat turned up unbearbly high in the car, Jonathan was still frigid when they entered the motel room. If it weren't for the fact that his clothes were soaked in snow, Ozzie would've been reluctant to strip him. Hell, he didn't really need any other reason to be reluctant to strip him other than the fact that this was his  _former boss_ , the bane of his existence... who could very well freeze to death in his motel room, if he didn't act quickly. 

Regardless of how cold he seemed, Jonathan was very much alert as Ozzie peeled off his clothes and threw them in the direction of the hamper - but the bastard seemed to be enjoying Ozzie's efforts a little  _too much_ , and wasn't actually contributing anything to the task except a knowing smirk. Once again, Ozzie wondered why his conscious wouldn't just let him leave the bastard to turn into an icicle in that park. 

And then he had the nerve to flop back on the bed, clad only in a pair of black boxers, and begin to drift off. "Oh... oh  _hell no_... I told you, you could sleep on the couch."

"Y'know, sharing body heat is the quickest way to warm up someone suffering from hypothermia." The prick even had the nerve to sneeze, for good measure. He opened his arms invitingly, those blue eyes imploring Ozzie to come join him. "C'mon... y'know you want to."

Ozzie rolled his eyes, "You're insufferable."

His confidant facade faltered slightly, and a touch of desperation leaked into his tone when he said, "I promise I won't try anything. I'm just really cold and these damn scars hurt like hell and I just... I just..." Jonathan had never had this much trouble articulating what he needed before... but then, he'd never needed something quite so personal.

"I'm so going to regret this tomorrow morning..."

"I promise that you won't."

"If I wake up and you're humping my leg -,"

With a chuckle that only sounded halfway forced, Jonathan reached forward, grabbed Ozzie's arm, and pulled him down onto the bed beside him. And then, with all the grace of a gazelle, he wrapped his spiderly limbs around Ozzie's prone form, placed his head on the smaller man's chest, directly above his heart, and allowed his eyes to slowly drift closed. Ozzie expected to feel the bone-chilling cold begin to seep through his clothes, but surprisingly, he felt exactly the opposite. 

As soon as Jonathan made bodily contact with something warm, he slowly began to warm up himself. Until eventually, the sheer amount of body heat radiating from them was damn near uncomfortable... and even then, Ozzie couldn't force himself to move. There was something oddly...  _perfect_ about the way that Jonathan had fallen asleep on his chest, a thin trail of drool trickling down his chin to pool on Ozzie's gray t-shirt. 

Resolving to find out more about why the older man had found himself alone on a park bench at midnight, babbling about some sort of explosion that had clearly left its mark on his pale skin, Ozzie closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Six Months Later**

The document was titled 'How to Care for Your Reptilian'. In it, Ozzie had taken the time to document all of the little nuances about his lover - were they lovers now? - that were different from the typical human. In other words, it was essentially a how to guide for being a good boyfriend to an alien that had, at one point, been bent on taking over the human race but had now come to the conclusion that cuddles were much more rewarding. 

And if he had his way, Jonathan would never know that it existed. He'd probably find the amount of sentiment and thought put into it to be utterly adorable, and never let Ozzie live it down. But really - he'd dedicated his life to finding out the truth, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing more fascinating, or pressing, than finding out just how many (and which in particular) of his boyfriend's bodily fluids were corrosive. 

He'd written the first chapter of his how-to guide six months earlier, when this whole song and dance had begun. It was simply titled:

**Chapter One: Cold-Blooded Creatures Don't Get Frostbite**

 


	2. Shedding Season

It was a little under four months later that Jonathan built the nest. 

He'd taken all of the pillows and blankets from around the motel room and made what vaguely resembled a  _pit_ in the middle of the room, right at the foot of the bed. The thermostat was cranked all the way to ninety-two, and Ozzie could almost  _see_ the heat rising from the shoddy motel carpet. 

Currently, Jonathan lay curled in a ball in the center of his nest, his favorite blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon. Ozzie sat on the floor beside the nest, a bottle of cold water and a half-eaten granola bar in hand. Every few minutes, Ozzie would press the straw to Jonathan's lips and encourage him to drink. Every so often he'd take a mouthful or so, but more often than not, he'd shrink away. He was even fussier about the granola - Ozzie had a feeling he was only eating it so that he wouldn't worry. 

It had been like this for almost a week. His former boss had attempted to assure him that he was absolutely fine, that once a year about this time he would 'shed' his skin - the process was moderately uncomfortable, but certainly not life threatening. Ozzie vaguely recalled Jonathan taking his week-long vacation around this time every year. He'd come back to the office looking like he'd turned his biological clock back at least five years, rested and rejuvinated and irritatingly beautiful.

But now, he was worried that something was wrong. Jonathan was sweating buckets, and he refused to take off his skin suit to help the process along. He'd thrown up six times and was running a fever of one-hundred and three. In Ozzie's opinion, that was about as far from 'fine' as one could be. 

"Do you want me to turn the TV on?" Jonathan moaned softly, and Ozzie was fairly certain that he shook his head. "How about some music? I think you left that sleazy jazz CD around here somewhere." Another shake of the head, "Jonathan -,"

Jonathan moistened his chapped lips with a swipe of his tongue, before whispering, "Just... sit with me? Please?"

Ozzie pressed the straw to Jonathan's lips, and the brunette took a small mouthful before promptly spitting it back up. "I wish that... Y'know what? Nevermind."

One blue eye cracked open and fixated on the younger's face, "Life would be a lot easier if you just said what's on your mind. I know that I'm pretty freaking awesome and all, but I'm not a mindreader." He shifted a little, making a sound that was eerily close to a hiss when his skin dragged across the rough material of the pillows. 

"I've done my research, alright? All the different websites I've looked at say that stress can cause complications with shedding, and nothing is more stressful than living in constant fear for your life." Ozzie said, his voice clipped. "It's been almost a week and the skin hasn't even started to  _peel_. And it doesn't help anything that you don't trust -,"

Jonathan cut him off, "Do you realize how vulnerable I am right now? I can't even stand on my own." He swallowed hard, "I have to rely on you for  _everything_. If that isn't trust..."

Jonathan had a point. Ozzie hadn't really put too much thought into it, but he realized it made sense that Jonathan wouldn't be able to stand. He just... Since he'd first entrusted Ozzie with the truth about his alien biology, he'd never taken his skin suit off in front of the other man. Since it was the reptilian scales that would be peeling off, it seemed only natural to Ozzie that the skin suit was hindering the process and making Jonathan sick. But he didn't want to do anything that would make Jonathan uncomfortable.

With some difficulty, Jonathan was able to roll onto his back. Taking Ozzie's hand, he guided it up and underneath the sweat-soaked t-shirt he was wearing and placed it, palm flat, against his belly. He expected to feel the smooth, blemish-free skin he always did when he touched Jonathan... instead, it felt bumpy and rigid, almost as if someone had slipped a crumpled up newspaper underneath Jonathan's skin suit. Before Ozzie could confirm this, Jonathan began to speak - his voice scarcely louder than a whisper. 

"I'm sorry. I'm not... I'm not used to..." He licked his lips, and Ozzie pressed him to take a small sip of water. "Believe it or not, as far as reptilians go, I'm not really... 'healthy'. I have a very weak constitution and no matter how well I prepare for it, shedding season always knocks me on my ass."

"Jonathan, you're like a freaking Adonis. You spent your lunch hour on the treadmill, for crying out loud!" Ozzie seemed far from convinced. 

Jonathan bit down on the inside of his mouth as a wave of pain washed over him, and the hand holding Ozzie's clenched tightly, almost painfully. A moment of tense silence followed, before eventually, he relaxed and whispered, "I've recently developed an affinity for Burger King."

"Oh yes, this is your epic punishment because you splurged on junk food every once in -,"

"I spent almost two-hundred dollars there last month alone." Jonathan cut him off, sounding just a wee bit sheepish. 

Ozzie's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "First of all, where the hell did you get two-hundred dollars to spend at a fast-food restaurant?" Jonathan was about to answer, but it turned out that Ozzie wasn't finished. "Second, haven't you ever heard of the film  _Supersize Me_? You're lucky you aren't  _dead_ right now."

Jonathan, who'd likely been expecting such a sharp comeback, offered a forlorn smile. "I've always had issues with impulse control. Ever since I was a kid, whatever would pop into my head would come right out of my mouth without a filter. If it tasted good, I'd eat the whole damn thing. If it felt good, I'd do it over... and over... and over again."

"Well, that certainly explains your near non-existent recovery period." Ozzie said. He'd meant it as a joke, but it came out rather flat. 

"What I'm  _trying_ to say is that it's not unusual for it to take two and a half to three weeks for me to shed. And I will throw up, and suffer, and..." he shuddered, "Just... bear with me, okay? If I was healthier it would be over by now, but..."

"Hey now, this isn't your fault, okay? You didn't ask for this... And despite what you might think, this isn't some sort of divine punishment or anything like that."

Jonathan had been sweating so badly that Ozzie had to change the blanket. Jonathan actually  _keened_ \- he didn't think that he'd ever heard his boss make such a pathetic sound before. While he was up, he refilled the glass of water and grabbed another granola bar. It might take him another week to be able to keep the little bit of food down, but Ozzie wasn't about to let him starve. By the time he returned, Jonathan had fallen into a fitfull sleep. 

* * *

Ozzie had read that a cool bath would help with bringing Jonathan's fever down, as well as provide a catalyst for the shedding skin. As soon as he'd settled in the tub, some of the life seemed to come back into his hazy blue eyes. He was able to finish an entire bottle of water and keep it down - Ozzie was beyond thrilled, and the excitement mounted when he took his temperature after fifteen minutes or so and it was down to ninety-nine degrees. 

"Why the hell didn't we think of this sooner?" Ozzie asked, wiping off the thermometer before slipping it back into its protective cover. 

Jonathan sighed, "Usually, Nancy would come up with ideas like these. My commander programmed her AI system to 'look out for my best interest', as he put it. But after the explosion, her programming got all screwed up and now she's more like a sassy sidekick than a caregiver."

"That would explain why she always seemed to be attached to you like an extra appendage." It was near impossible to tell whether or not he was being sarcastic.

His former boss was on his second bottle of water when he asked, "Do you have a bath loofah? Or an exfoliating sponge? Anything that's coarse, but won't do too much damage to your skin will do." Ozzie was looking at him like he'd grown a second head, "It'll help with the shedding."

"Um... do most men have a bath loofah and I just missed the memo?" Jonathan gave a long suffering sigh, and Ozzie rolled his eyes, "It's a legit question."

"I had a whole spa day set, back at my apartment." Jonathan said, his tone matter-of-fact. 

"Of course you did."

The best he could find was an unused dishwashing scrubbie, which would have to make do. Now it was Jonathan's turn to look at him as if he'd aquired another head. Nevertheless, he reached behind his head and loosed the mechanism that allowed his skin suit to deflate. He sighed in relief and motioned for Ozzie to help him out of his flesh prison, and once he was free, Ozzie stood there awkwardly, holding the skin as if it were actually his body. 

Jonathan managed a weak laugh, before motioning for Ozzie to drape it over the sink. It wasn't like the suit was made of paper and would crack under the slightest pressure - it had taken a massive explosion for the suit to even crack. Once that was out of the way, Ozzie took the sponge and started to lightly scrub at Jonathan's scales. 

It probably should've horrified him, the way that Jonathan's skin was practically  _falling_ off. But he had to admit that the way he was purring was actually really hot.

The skin underneath was positively radiant. It looked healthy and new, and was so smooth underneath his fingers. When all of the dead skin had been scrubbed away, he helped Jonathan out of the tub and led him over to the toilet so that he could do his business while he cleaned the mess that had been left behind by their endeavours. 

"How're you feeling? Better?" He asked. He heard the toilet flush and the faucet turn on, followed by the sound of Jonathan washing his hands. 

"So much better." He said. His voice sounded so much clearer, and he was already starting to regain some of the strength he'd lost that week. "I might just have to keep you around for next shedding season."

* * *

**Chapter Two: The Dos and Don'ts of Shedding Season**

The second entry in the journal he'd made, entitled 'How to Care for Your Reptilian', was short and sweet. Although snakes were solitary creatures, sometimes they relied on the help of others in order to ensure their health and well-being. And when they displayed that level of trust in you... well, you'd be a fool not to oblige. 

 


End file.
